


Don't Stop Your Lovin'

by DefaltManifesto



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Grinding, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Coital Cuddling, Sleepy Sex, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 02:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14391987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaltManifesto/pseuds/DefaltManifesto
Summary: One morning, years later.





	Don't Stop Your Lovin'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scepticallyopenminded](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scepticallyopenminded/gifts).



> Me: I'm not writing any more Teen Wolf
> 
> My friends: bitch you thought
> 
> This is for my awesome friend cuz why not. I've been wanting to write a fic drabble thing like this for awhile. I might do another similar type of drabble with Isaac and Derek. We'll see. Also, did this show end? All I know is the cast is entirely different from what it was back when I was active. Anyways. 
> 
> For the rest of you, expect more Dragon Age and Watch Dogs fics. I have like...three? Fics I'm working on right now.
> 
> Title from Nothing Without You by The Weeknd

[The tumblr](http://defaltmanifesto.tumblr.com)

 

Stiles wakes up with a sharp inhale as dull nails drag down his sides. Scott laughs and kisses his hip before letting his nails dig a little harder, tugging out a groan from Stiles’ sleep fogged brain. A slick tongue slides against the head of his soft cock and he can’t help the way he jerks, one hand twisting in the pillowcase beneath his head and the other grasping at Scott’s hair. It’s too long, nearly covering his eyes. He’s been complaining about needing a haircut, but has yet to get one, instead tugging it back in a ridiculous tiny ponytail that Stiles finds way more endearing than he should.

And right now, it gives him something to hold onto.

Scott works him over slow, like he’s got all the time in the world and really, he does. The fan that circles above them makes his skin pebble as the heat of a too humid California night slips away from him. Scott hums as he takes his dick deeper into his mouth and the sensations, sweat cooling on his skin and the warm heat of Scott’s mouth around him makes him shiver. A cool morning breeze makes the blinds on the window shake. Stiles kicks the sheets down and wraps a leg half way around Scott’s well-muscled back, heel digging in as he arches up into his mouth to get more.

The years, and werewolf abilities, have helped Scott fill out even more than he had been in high school. Stiles likes it. Likes the strength that he can feel in every heavy touch both casual and sexual. He likes the way it makes him feel safe and protected, not just from the world but from himself too because even now, with nearly a decade between then and now, he doesn’t trust that he’s fully in control of himself.

He doesn’t need to be with Scott though.

Scott’s hands shove his hips down onto the bed. A noise of frustration escapes him before he can stop it, but it’s not true frustration because this…he likes this. He wants to push and he wants Scott to hold him right where he wants him anyways.

Teeth graze the underside of his dick and a curse slips free. When he risks a glance downward, he can see the heated smile in Scott’s eyes, a look always caught between possessive and pleased. His tongue presses against the tip of his cock even as one hand shifts down to rub his thigh, soothing at first before there, the nails are back again dragging enough to leave raised red lines but not to hurt. The threat is what makes Stiles’ breath stutter and his head thump back against the pillow

He watches the way the faint sunlight on the ceiling skips, interrupted by the spinning blades of the fan, becoming hypnotized by the motion and the deep and warm pleasure that Scott’s managed to pull him into by getting to him before his brain could really start working. He’s learned all the tricks since they stopped dancing around each other. It’s uncanny to the point that Stiles wants to blame Scott’s supernatural abilities, but it’s not that and they both know it. It’s just them.

They’ve spent too long entrenched in one another’s lives, carving out a space for each other for better or worse.

“Scott…”

Scott pulls off, hand wrapping around him and stroking him slowly as he drops his mouth to bite at Stiles’ thigh. It’s harsher than his nails had been and Stiles lets out an embarrassing noise closer to a whine then he wishes to admit as he comes, jerking and kicking at Scott’s back in the progress. A moment later, he goes limp on the bed, suddenly cognizant of the way the sheets stick to his skin and how fast his breathing is.

“Good?” Scott asks, voice smug.

Stiles slaps at his shoulder. “You know it was, asshole. Come up here.”

Scott kisses the space he bit and moves back up, settling between Stiles’ thighs and rubbing his cock along his hip as he presses soft kisses up Stiles’ neck until he finds his lips. Stiles tips his head back and threads his fingers through Scott’s hair. His come smears between them as Scott grinds. It should be gross, but it isn’t. Maybe he’s just desensitized to the idea, so used to the way werewolves like to cover others in their scent and be covered in return. Or maybe it’s just because it’s Scott and he’d probably let Scott do anything he wanted.

He bites at Scott’s lip and runs a hand down his back, settling at his waist and rocking up against him. Scott growls into the kiss and shoves down harder. Everything in the morning is more raw between them. Stiles’ brain is slow enough that he can enjoy the sensations, and Scott’s closer to instinct than he is anything else, able to be himself without getting self-conscious about it.

Stiles likes mornings.

Scott’s head drops to his neck and he pants, open mouthed with something close to a gasp leaving his lips as he comes. Stiles should probably push him away so they can clean up and start their day. Instead, he holds Scott closer and shuts his eyes, sinking into the comfort that comes with Scott’s warm weight pressing him into the mattress even as he begins to sweat once more. Each time the wind blows, rolling cool air across their skin, it feels like a gentle awakening. They float there, wrapped in one another’s presence.

It isn’t until the fan whines as it always does when it runs all night long that either of them stir. Scott pulls away and Stiles makes a face at the way the come has grown tacky between them but he can’t really regret it when the feeling of contentment is still so prominent. He stretches, arms over his head and hands grabbing at the headboard as his back arches. When he goes limp again, Scott is staring at him with another heated stare from where he stands at the side of the bed.

“You did that on purpose,” he says, a smile playing at his lips.

“Hm, maybe,” Stiles says. “But you’re not getting any more until I shower.”

Scott grabs his wrist and tugs him out of bed, dragging him towards the bathroom. “Well I guess we should take care of that.”

Stiles laughs.


End file.
